Teutonic Magic
by ArcaneAdagio
Summary: England's feeling sick, Norway and Romania can't get a break, and Prussia's decided he's spent too much time in Germany's basement! England offers Prussia a History of Magic teaching position at his school. Prussia accepts, not considering Ministry interference, Harry Potter, and a dark wizard with an idiotic name. (5th year, human & nation names used.)
1. Chapter 1

**Teutonic Magic: Chapter One**

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><p>Prussia attends his first World Meeting in years, and is reintroduced the chaos that is every nation in one room, along with revealing a secret he'd been keeping.<p>

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><p>Prussia, in the simplest terms, was regretting attending the World Meeting. (He only came because West had <em>INSISTED <em>that he'd spent too much time in the basement, plus the added benefit of pissing off Austria.)

Despite the fact it had been an hour since they had begun, America was the only one who had completed his speech (somehow it seemed to piss off nearly everybody in the entire room, despite the fact that, from what Prussia had gathered, it wasn't offensive in the slightest), and England had only made through half of his presentation, most of which was passive-aggressive remarks on how Britain was the best nation in the world, and that they should've had the meeting there instead of France.

Well, at least it had quieted down _slightly_ (Veneziano was trying to quietly finish a bowl of pasta and failing, Romano was trying to not explode at everybody's 'idiotic **bullshit**', South Korea was sneaking his had towards China's chest and Japan just looked exceedingly uncomfortable.)

Gilbert stared at England; man, did that guy look sick! Dark bags hung under his usually-bright emerald eyes, his was was pale (almost as pale as Prussia!) and he seemed to droop, like a wilting flower. Hopefully the guy didn't collapse, nobody looked like they were in the mood to carry a fainted England out the door. (Well, except Francis, _just_ to make Arthur owe him.) Was it because of that one guy? He'd read something about it in his magical newspaper… what was his name… Moldyshorts? God, why did dark wizards always have to have the most unawesome names.

As England finished up his presentation, what was it about? His economy? Eh, who cared.

"So, any questions?"

America's hand shot up.

England rolled his eyes, "This better be important."

"So this isn't related to your boring presentation, but; dude, you're not looking good. At all. And before you say something, I know it's not your economy, _I_ was looking at the charts."

England glared at America, "Well, I'm amazed you managed to stop stuffing your face for so long to actually pay attention. Next question?"

America raised his hand again.

England ignored him.

Prussia raised his hand.

"Yes?" "Is it because of that batshit crazy magic 'dark lord' who came back last spring?"

Silence.

"_YOU HAVE A DARK LORD IN YOUR COUNTRY_?!" America yelled (more like screeched), causing England, and several other countries, to jump in surprise. Prussia snickered slightly.

England rubbed his ear, wincing, "_Yes,_ his name is Voldemort. But-"

"I'LL SEND IN MY MILITARY-"

"Don't, now-"

"I COULD TOTALLY TAKE ANY EVIL MAGIC GUY, JUST SAY THE WORD-"

"SHUT _UP_ AMERICA!" England breathed heavily, running his hand through his messy hair.

"Okay, first of all, Voldemort _has_ to remain a secret to your muggle communities. If you don't know about or don't have a magic community, don't worry about it." He added, facing the large crowd of nations with confused expressions (including West! Hah!) "Secondly, Prussia, how do you know about magic?"

Gilbert smiled in the most annoying way he could muster and shrugged, "_Somebody_ has to represent Germany's magical side."

England stared, shuffled down from the podium, and took his seat. "See me during the break."

Prussia tuned out the rest of the meeting, it's not like he had to do anything.

"Alright, how long have you known about magic?" England and Prussia were sitting in the corner of the room. England's thick brows were furrowed and his hands were clasped together.

Prussia tapped his chin, thinking. "About… 1150ish? I think I saw some people doing magic." _Didn't we burn them at the stake…? _"But I actually started doing magic when we took over Old Prussia."

"Why didn't you join the Magic Trio?"

Prussia smirked, "It wasn't awesome enough to contain my magical talent."

Arthur glared at him, "Well, I have a favor to ask-" He was cut off by a hacking cough, blood spluttering out from his mouth. He collapsed from his chair, like a limp rag doll hitting the floor. Blood spattered the (probably expensive) carpet and England's (also probably expensive) suit.

A few nations rushed over, France picking up the fainted England.

Norway and America rushed over to Prussia, "Dude, what did you do?"

"Hey! It's not my fault he just started hurling blood everywhere!" Prussia snapped, red eyes glinting.

Norway's expression softened slightly, "His situation must be worst than we imagined."

France sighed, walking over to the room's exit, "I'll bring him to the hotel." Quietly, he muttered, "_Angleterre __**so **_owes me for this."

The rest of the meeting continued on chaotically, ending in a massive water gun/axe fight.

Liechtenstein won.

Prussia dragged himself to the hotel, soaking wet, cackling loudly, and trying to ignore West, who looked like he was going to pop a vein all while lecturing Prussia on 'acting his age' (Gilbert got him to stop after pointing out that, 'West, if I acted my age I'd be dead.')

When he _finally_ reached his hotel room, Prussia flopped down on the hotel bed, not even bothering to change out of his clothes. He closed his eyes and immediately fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Teutonic Magic: Chapter Two**

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><p>Gilbert gets a request by a sick England, and sends a letter to the head of Hogwarts. Romania doesn't speak German, Prussia's exclusive opinion on quills is finally revealed, and Gilbird flies across several countries in the span of two days.<p>

_ KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!_

Prussia's eyes snapped open. He swore loudly and stumbled to the door. He peeked through the door, eyes narrowed.

"_Was zur Hölle willst du?" *_

"Gilbert, I don't speak German."

"What do you _want_ Romania?" Prussia opened the door, rubbing his eyes. "It's, what, three AM?"

Romania stepped into the room, "_Actually, _it's only two fifty, but this is more important." "England can't get up right now, so he asked me to tell you to come to his room."

"And he couldn't just wait until morning?"

Romania shrugged, fang flashing, "Maybe it's urgent?"

Prussia grumbled, cursing England and his general shittiness, throwing in a few choice German swears.

Romania and Prussia took the elevator to England's room, receiving a few strange looks from late hotel guests. As they entered his room, Norway looked over at the pair. England lay in his bed, ice pack lying on his head. Prussia took a seat next to Norway, staring at the sickly Arthur, eyes narrowed. There would be no sympathy for those who dragged _him _out of bed.

"Alright, what was so important that you made me get up this late? Whatever it is, it better be the _most _awesome thing in the _universe_."

"Oh… Prussia, you're here… I have something to-" England coughed, blood splattering on the sheets.

Gilbert winced, resisting the urge to grab a sponge and clean off the disgusting bed. "Ew."

"Sorry about that…" England mumbled. _God, he must be really sick if he's not being sarcastic. _"Right, since you know magic… and stuff… well, Norway and Romania can't get a break… could you… go teach at Hogwarts? There's an opening…" England's words were slurred and quiet, and the whole scenario made Gilbert feel like he was watching a dying man's last breath.

"Wait, _what?" Hogwarts?_

"Yeah, Hogwarts. There's… Harry Potter… tell Dumbledore I sent you and… stuff…" England yawned, eyelids drooping.

"He means to say, you should keep an eye of Harry Potter, and since England's not in any shape to go anywhere, and we've got enough on our plates, you should teach at Hogwarts. There's a History of Magic opening at Hogwarts." Norway said, "Defense Against the Dark Arts was just taken." He muttered.

"There's no way I'd teach at a-" Prussia stopped.

_ West won't rag on about how much time you're inside, and you'll be able to see the other magic schools._

_ And teach _**_British _**_students? Wow, sounds _**_super _**_appealing._

_ You trained America._

_ Yeah, but that was different, it was military stuff. I've never done _**_actual _**_teaching._

_ Who cares, you'll be awesome at it!_

_ True._

"_Fine_, I'll accept to teach at your sucky British magic school which is WAY less cool than_ my_ magic school_. _When does it start?"

England looked dazedly at Gilbert, "I think… in… four weeks?"

_ "WHAT?!" _England jumped a little at Prussia's screech, "_FOUR_ WEEKS_? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GET THINGS IN ORDER BY THEN?!" _Gilbert jumped from his seat, flipped Arthur off, then ran out the door.

Norway looked over at Romania, "Did Germany have a magic school?_" _

"Prussia had one, but I assumed it was destroyed. I think it was called… Zauberitter_?" _Romania shrugged, "Guess it still exists."

Prussia stayed at his hotel on the second day of the conference, West hadn't invited him back after the water gun/axe fight. He sat on the floor, Gilbird on his shoulder, scribbling (with a PEN, not one of those goddamn useless _quills_) a letter to Dumbledore. A stack of lesson plans he had drawn up in the past few hours sat next to him. He had no doubts that he would be turned own.

He held up the letter to Gilbird, "So? What do you think?"

Gilbird chirped, causing Prussia to grin widely. "I know, it's awesome."

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><p><em>Dear Professor Dumbledore,<em>

_My name is Gilbert Beilschmidt, or, as you may or may not know, the personification of East Germany (and formerly the Kingdom of Prussia and the Teutonic Knights.) I've been informed by my colleague,_

Prussia had spent several minutes thinking of the proper term to describe his relationship with England; the guy **had** made him faint for a few hours by eating his cooking.

_Arthur Kirkland, or the personification of England/Britain, that you have an opening for a History of Magic professor, and I'd like to try out for the position. Considering the fact I've lived through a lot of history, I'd like to think I'm qualified for the job._

_Sincerely,_

_Gilbert Beilschmidt_

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><p>Prussia scratched Gilbird's head and handed him the letter. Gilbird chirped again, holding the too-large letter in his mouth.<p>

"Take this to Dumbledore, alright? He's somewhere in Britain, but not the person, the actual landmass." He would _not _make that mistake again, those frying pan bruises _still _ached every time he sat down.

Two days after Prussia sent his letter, back in Germany's basement, Prussia was in his underwear when his response finally arrived.

"Gilbert! Your bird's here!" Germany called out, startling Prussia from his sleep. Gilbert plodded up the stairs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Gilbird sat on the buffet table, letter tied to his leg while he happily poked his beak in a plate of pasta that Italy had made.

"I didn't know that people still use messenger birds!" Italy chirped from his seat, holding a bowl of cake batter. West awkwardly stood next to him, apron tied around his waist.

"Wizards are dumb and old-fashioned." Gilbert grumbled, untying the letter from Gilbird's leg before giving him a congratulatory pet.

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><p><em>Dear Mr. Beilschmidt,<em>

_I am pleased to inform you that your offer as History of Magic professor has been accepted, but only on my part. Unfortunately, the Ministry of Magic caught wind of your application, and you will have to come to a meeting and an inspection. The letter they sent me is long and uninteresting, and it summarizes up to, 'go to the 'Department of International Magical Cooperation on level five' for a meeting, along with an inspection on August the 12th at 9:30 AM.' Under normal circumstances I would not require such a meaningless thing, especially for a nation, but I'm afraid the ministry and I are currently 'at odds', as some may say; not to mention your friend Arthur, and his brothers, cut their ties with the magical government many years ago. I can't say I blame them._

_Albus Dumbledore,_

_Headmaster of Hogwarts_

_P.S. I would highly recommend getting your credentials in order, your brother's government position should be very helpful in this matter._

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><p>Prussia checked the date.<p>

August 10th.

"Hey, West, do you think you could get me some citizenship and teaching papers by the 12th?"

* * *

><p><em>AN *Prussia says: What the hell do you want?_

_Thanks to Ka for correcting my google translated and shitty german!_


	3. Chapter 3

Teutonic Magic: Chapter Three

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><p>Prussia decided that wearing a suit would be best, after all, these wizards were probably a bunch of racists, and he was not interested in having passive-aggressive comments thrown his way about shabby clothing; plus, robes were <em>literally<em> the dumbest thing he had ever seen, and he'd lived through some pretty shitty fashion choices. (Though he would always enjoy the memory of his crotch cloth.*)

"Bye Prussia! Have fun at that place you're going to!" Italy cheerfully waved goodbye, shoving a forkful of pasta into West's mouth, who was to focused on trying to not choke on food to say goodbye. Prussia smirked and disappeared with a snap.

Germany's eyes widened, spitting out the pasta, "**Are you trying to tell me I didn't need to pay for all of those plane tickets‽**" Italy offered Germany a comforting pat, staring mournfully at the fallen spaghetti.

* * *

><p>Prussia arrived in the front of England's house at 8:00, swaying a little as he walked to the door. He knocked, still trying to recover from the apparition recoil. Norway opened the door, "Oh, Prussia." He wore his usual sailor suit, dark and light blue.<p>

Prussia stepped in, rubbing his head, "I hate apparating."

Norway walked down the hallways, hands in pockets "I usually use the 2p's mirrors."

"You can use those?"

Lukas shrugged, "They're basically slightly different copies of us, if they can use them, we can too. I really don't know why more nations haven't figured this out yet."

Norway knocked on the study door. Prussia could hear scrambling and a faint, 'no, you're sick you dirtbag!' The door swung open. Romania stood there, smiling brightly.

"Hey guys! Ready to go?"

"How are you so happy this early." Norway murmured. Romania chose to ignore him.

"So England's still sick-"

"I am NOT!" England marched over to the three of them, brows furrowed in annoyance. Despite his claims, his face was still pale, and the bags under his eyes were still very obvious. "I'm absolutely fine."

Prussia couldn't help but notice the bloody handkerchief hanging from England's pocket.

Romania clapped his hands together, "So, you-" He pointed to Lukas, "are going to the inspection with Gilbert, since he doesn't know anything about how the ministry works and from what I've seen, they'll take any chance to fire you even before you've started!"

Prussia let out an indignant snort. "England, your government's broken as shit."

England glared at him, "At least I _have_ a government." He sneered.

The two of them glared at each other for a few seconds before Norway interrupted, "They change the time of meetings just to trip you up sometimes, so we should go now."

"Are we going to have to apparate?"

"Yes."

"Verdammt."

* * *

><p>"Now I'm definitely going to be sick." Prussia leaned against a wall, clutching his stomach. Norway patted him on the back, who definitely looked a little green. Lukas looked around, "We need to find a telephone booth."<p>

"What? No, I'm not puking in one of those."

Lukas rolled his eyes, "The Ministry's visitor entrance is in there." He walked out the alleyway, "Oh, here it is."

Prussia walked over. A red telephone booth that had definitely seen better days. Its paint was chipping and stone floor was somehow stained. "This is Arthur's Ministryentrance?" Thought it'd be more blue.

Norway nodded, "I don't know what he'll do if someone tries to destroy it. English wizards are so impractical."

As Norway began to walk to the booth, two strangers approached it. A tall, red-haired man and a black-haired boy with round glasses looked at them with inquisitive eyes.

Lukas stared at the boy, normally stoic eyes widening.

The red-haired man stiffened, gazing at the duo (especially at Gilbert.) "Oh, well, hello there!"

Prussia shuffled awkwardly, but Lukas was quick to respond, staring at the black-haired boy. "Harry Potter, right?"

The boy's eyes widened.

Prussia looked over at Lukas, "_Wait, he's Harry Potter?_" He asked in German. He stared at the scar that was slightly covered by the boys' messy black hair.

"_Yeah, that's him._"

The red-haired man clasped his hand on Harry's shoulder, coughing. "Well, yes lovely meeting the two of you, but, we have to get going." He sidled into the booth, "In here, Harry." He glanced nervously over at Gilbert.

"Oh, you're going to the Ministry as well?" Gilbert asked. Harry nodded. Norway and Prussia both slid in, cramped against the wall of the booth. Gilbert tried to ignore how incredibly stupid this would look to anyone who passed by.

The red-haired man reached over to the dial, "What were the numbers…?" He mumbled.

"62442." Lukas answered, not missing a beat.

He punched in the numbers, and the dial whirled back. An almost robotic but not-quite voice began to speak. "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, please state your name and business."

"Uh-" The man was clearly unsure where to talk into, and tried putting the mouthpiece to his ear. Gilbert repressed a chuckle. "Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Magic Artifacts. Here to escort Harry Potter, who's been asked to attend a disciplinary hearing. There's also-" He looked over at the other two, unsure.

"Lukas Bondevik, here to show Gilbert Beilschmidt to his meeting and inspection."

"Thank you!" The nearly-robotic, nearly-human voice cheerfully replied back. A click sounded, and three badges clattered to the tiny return-coin shelf. Harry picked them up, looking at them for a moment before pinning his to his shirt, and passing the other two to Gilbert and Lukas. Prussia looked at his for a moment, it was square and grey labeled 'Gilbert Beilschmidt, Meeting and Inspection' in black, thick text. He attached it to his suit.

"Visitors of the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand to the registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the atrium." Prussia let out a sigh,he really wasn't in the mood for questioning about his wand.

The booth shook, and when Gilbert looked through the glass, the outside was slowly rising above and away from them. Darkness enveloped them until nobody could see a thing. The only thing Prussia could hear was a grinding noise, rather like an elevator, as the phone box descended towards the Ministry.

He muttered to Norway in German, "T_his thing is a piece of shit._" Norway mumbled an agreement.

After what felt like forever, bright lights began to fill the booth, and finally, the doors opened. "The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day."

The four of them stepped out, Gilbert stretching his limbs. Prussia looked over at the atrium. The hall was brightly lit, and hundreds of workers were coming out of green fireplaces. The floor was polished so bright that it almost shone, despite the fact it was completely black. The ceiling had gems stuck into it, creating patterns that shifted and wove themselves around. Norway was unperturbed, Harry was gaping, and Prussia was… mildly impressed.

"_Guess Eyebrows does know something about architecture._" Prussia muttered, ignoring the fact that England probably had nothing to do with the design of this place.

"_It's a bit too flashy for me._" Norway replied.

"So," Arthur began, as the four of them walked towards the security desk, "Where do you two come from?"

Lukas replied in his usual stoic way, "I'm from Norway."

Gilbert grinned, red eyes sparkling, "I'm from Germany, but I'm probably staying here for the next couple years."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, My… friend told me about the teaching position at Hogwarts, and I thought I could try for it." Prussia glared at Norway, who looked like he was hiding the faintest trace of a smile at Prussia's use of the word 'friend.'

They reached the security desk, Harry went first. Prussia fixated on the giant fountain that sat in the middle of the room, several gargantuan golden statues standing in the center of it. A wizard held his wand up, while a blank-eyed witch, a centaur, a goblin, and a house elf stared up the wizard with admiring eyes. Prussia resisted gagging, goblins and centaurs would never look at a wizard with admiration, and even though house elves might, they hadn't been allowed as slaves in Germany since several years after World War Two! Prussia made a mental note to bother Scotland and England about that.

Prussia was awoken from his daze with a sharp poke to his arm. "Gilbert, your wand." Norway said.

"Oh, right, that." Gilbert handed over his wand to the security desk. The man squinted, "Dragon heartstring… rowan… and reed wood?" He looked up, "I don't believe I've ever seen a wand with two types of wood…"

Gilbert shrugged, "They used to make them a long time ago. It's… an old family heirloom." He added quickly.

The security guard inspector gingerly handed the wand back, as if he were afraid it was going to explode.

* * *

><p>Harry, Arthur Weasley, Prussia, and Norway stood in the elevator, watching people and memos come in and out. Arthur whispered explanations to Harry, and it was generally incredibly awkward. Two levels up, Harry and Arthur Weasley both left. Prussia gave him a wave and a grin as he left, to which Harry nervously returned.<p>

Norway leaned over, "_You know, they probably think you're a vampire of something._" He spoke in Norwegian, causing several of occupants of the elevator look over curiously.

Prussia let out a snort, "_English people._"

"Level Five, the Department of International Magical Cooperation." The same annoying female voice rang out through the elevator.

"_So, why does Harry Potter have to go to a hearing anyway?_" Gilbert wondered aloud as they walked down the glistening silver hallway. Memos zipped about above them, and

"_Apparently he cast a patronus spell to defend him and his cousin. England was telling me about it a little while ago._"

Gilbert lifted his eyebrows "_A **patronus**? At his age?_"

"_I cast patronus spells when I was a teenager._"

"_When you were a teenager you were traveling across the world as a viking, and you were actually, like, several centuries old._"

"_I was **mentally **16 though._"

Gilbert rolled his eyes, "_So if he was defending himself, how come he has to go to hearing?_"

"_Harry and the Ministry are at odds at the moment, so they're just looking for a way to expel him._"

"_Can't England or Scotland do anything about it?_"

"_They cut ties with the ministry government after World War One, they had other things to fix._"

"_Like, all of Europe?"_

"_Pretty much._"

They reached the end of the hallway, and Norway knocked on a door labeled, "International Magical Office of Law."

The door swung open, and Prussia looked around nervously as they entered the second hallway. A stout, curly-haired witch sat at a desk, coffee in one hand and a quill in the other. She looked up as the door opened, her eyes widening at the sight of Prussia startlingly white hair and bright red eyes. An awkward silence settled upon the room.

Lukas spoke first, "I'm here to escort Gilbert Beilschmidt to his conference."

The witch nodded meekly, staring at Gilbert, "Well, um- it's been pushed back." Her voice was quiet and shaky. _Gott, were all English wizards this paranoid about albinos‽_

Gilbert and Lukas exchanged a glance. "What?"

"The meeting's been pushed back to 9:30 due to Harry Potter's hearing being rescheduled…"

They stared at the clock. 8:30.

"Scheiße." Gilbert looked around the room, before settling on plopping down on a slightly-uncomfortable couch. Norway settled a few inches away.

"So unawesome." He groaned.

Norway grunted, pulling out a charms book from his bag. He flipped to a dog-eared page and began to read.

Prussia leaned back and closed his eyes, "_Wake me up when those dumb ministry losers come._"


	4. Chapter 4

**Teutonic Magic: Appraisals and Allegations**

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><p>Prussia has his meeting and meets the delight that is Dolores Umbridge.<p>

Gilbert woke with a start, Lukas jabbing him harshly in the chest. "**_SCHEIßE! _**_The hell was that for?_"

"Wake up." Lukas was standing up, extending his hand out to a grumpy-looking man wearing a ridiculous lime green bowler hat.

Gilbert stood up quickly, brushing himself off and attempting to regain some of his dignity. "_Hallo_, I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt."

The Minister gave Gilbert a wary glance, "Well, yes, let's get this over with then." He strutted towards a door labeled, 'Meeting Room A.' Several wizards and witches followed after.

"_That's Dumbledore._" Lukas pointed to a tall, silver-haired man with the _awesomest _beard Gilbert had _ever _seen. It hung to the floor in a wispy twist, like some kind of ghost. He had bright eyes that seemed to twinkle with wisdom (rather like a nation, except without as much as the trauma.) Dumbledore looked over at Gilbert and gave a smile. Gilbert grinned back.

_Finally, someone who _**_doesn't_**_ act like I'm going to bite their neck off or whatever. _Lukas waved his hand at a witch who was hurriedly whispering to Dumbledore, "That's Minerva McGonagall, don't cross her. And that's… the minister's… secretary…?" He pointed at a red-haired teenager who bared a startling resemblance to Arthur Weasley. "And that's… Dolores Umbridge." A toady-looking women dressed in garish pink robes stood next to Fudge.

Prussia stared towards the door stopping halfway when Lukas didn't follow. "Aren't you coming?"

Lukas shook his head slightly, "No, I'm not applying for the job, so I can't go in. Plus, I want to finish this." He gestured to his book.

Gilbert shrugged, he could handle a couple annoying government officials by himself.

The room was, in fact, too large. Perhaps it was the fact Prussia had lived in poverty for so many years, or just a part of him wanting to save a little money (_damn you Austria!)_, but the overly intricate paintings of wizards throughout the years that covered the walls, the table with a map of the constellations and with a large circular clock embedded in the center, _and _the velvet chairs, the room was, just… wasteful.

Cornelius Fudge took a seat at the end of the table, as far away from Dumbledore and the Hogwarts teachers as possible.

Prussia rushed to claim a seat, and as he sat down and looked at the many faces, a thought crossed his mind. _What if he didn't get in? _Fudge didn't seem to be in a good mood, glaring accusatorially at Dumbledore. He shook his head mentally. _You can't think like that. You're the awesome Prussia! The Teutonic Knights, East Germany! You survived two World Wars _**_and _**_the Berlin Wall, you can handle these ministry morons*!_

Still... he couldn't help the gnawing feeling of nervousness that was slowly growing in in his stomach, England _had _said they'd take any chance to fire him, even before he stared.

"Well," Fudge started stiffly, "let's start with a background check, shall we?" His voice was strained, and he looked ready to pop a vein. "Gilbert Beilschmidt, born on January 18th, 1975 in East Germany?"

Prussia was ready to reply with a sarcastic remark before stopping himself, "Yes."

"If you were born in East Germany, then how did you get your magical education?"

_Starting the interrogation so soon? Well then. _"_Zauberitter_ is in East Germany." Gilbert responded dryly.

Fudge stiffened further. "Well then. Where did you get your teaching qualifications?"

Gilbert slid out the papers West had provided, and silently thanked the universe for his nation status, "I thought I sent you a copy of this, my mistake."

Fudge glanced over at the papers and unceremoniously handed it over to Umbrige. "Do you have any relatives?"

Gilbert lifted an eyebrow, "I fail to see how that ties into teaching credentials, but, okay. I have a younger brother, Ludwig, who's not a wizard. We lived alone, since our parents were kind of dead. After the wall fell we found out about a few relatives scattered about Europe, Switzerland, Austria, places like that. Ludwig got an actual job, and I mainly just stayed with him getting a few part-time jobs until I heard about the openings here from my… friend."

Gilbert had decided it would be to difficult to come up with some far-fetched lie about how the two of them had been separated because of the wall, so he'd just gone with the easiest option. Still, were Austria and Hungary his cousins…? Gilbert snapped out of his thoughts when Fudge barked another question.

"What is your friend's name?"

Gilbert stared. England and Scotland had cut ties, would they know about him? Did they have records of England? "Arthur Kirkland."

Fudge showed no sign of recognition, "What ties does this 'Arthur Kirkland have?'"

Gilbert shrugged, "I don't know, he has magical brothers, Alistair, Seamus, Patrick, there's another one… can't remember his name." He mused.

Fudge leaned over to the perky teenager with the horn-rimmed glasses. He was eagerly scribbling down every word of the conversation (_which was so dumb, typewriters and computers exist for a reason) _and whispered something. Gilbert stared, confused.

The Minister cleared his throat and faced Prussia again, "So, you have no idea what your parents were like?"

"If you're trying to ask me in a roundabout way if they were purebloods, no. I don't know what 'they were like'." Prussia's heart beat quickly and his eyes widened as he realized what he'd said. _Aw, fuck._ Fudge's face reddened and the teenager next to him looked like he was going to explode.

"How dare-" Just as Fudge looked ready to sock Prussia in the face, McGonagall intervened.

"If you don't _mind_ Cornelius, but I believe we have to test Mr. Beilschmidt on his magical and historical aptitude?" Her teeth were gritted, and her eyes glimmered with resentment towards the minister.

Fudge took a deep breath, "Right then. Dolores?"

The witch with the disgustingly pink robes looked up,_ what did Norway say her name was? Umbridge?_, and smiled sweetly.

"Let's start with magic, shall we?" Her voice was slow, like she was talking to a dumb animal. Prussia lifted an eyebrow.

"Fine by me."

Umbridge pulled out a thick, stubby wand from her pocket and waved it at a door that stood at the end of the room, along with two large curtains. It let out a soft _click _before creaking open. The curtains flew open, revealing a glass room. "We don't want to damage the floor, so you'll be performing spells in there." She pointed at the door. _Yeah, I realized. _"Here is a list of the spells you should do." Dolores handed Prussia a list of spells. He scanned it over, _levitation? What, do they think I'm an idiot?_

He stood up, staring nervously as every member of the room watched him enter the room. He pulled out his wand and readied himself.

Levitation, stunning, petrification, and the other basics went well, but then they got to the patronus charm. Nations always struggled with patronus'.

Prussia shut his eyes, desperately trying to think of a happy memory. _Finding Germany? No, that was after Holy Rome… come _**_on _**_Gilbert, something happy! No use in depressing yourself _**_now_**_ of all times._

After a few seconds, Fudge's voice cut through his thoughts, "_Can_ you perform the patronus charm?"

"Of course I can! I'm awesome!" He hissed back, eyes still closed. _Happy thoughts… happy thoughts… _

_For someone who's lived through centuries you sure seem to lack good memories._

"We don't have all day Mr. Beilschmidt, you still have the history examination and the rest of the spells." _Fuck off, you're the one wearing a _**_green_**_ bowler hat._

Prussia gritted his teeth, _come on Gilbert, you have happy memories- Of course!_

An image of himself wearing a tattered jacket and standing next to a cardboard car, standing next to his significantly better-dressed brother, Austria and Hungary stood beside Germany. Gilbert's face was beaming with joy and there was _no way _he was crying.

"_Expecto Patronum!_"

A silvery white eagle soared from the tip of his wand, letting out a shrill caw as it soared across the room before disappearing in a wisp of smoke. Gilbert smiled, while Umbridge furiously scribbled more notes.

Several spells later, Gilbert sat back in his seat, Umbridge jotting down final notes on his performance.

"Now then, shall we," She gestured between her and Gilbert, "find out how much you know, about history?" _Oh, great, the patronizing voice again. Yeah, I need that. _"So, how much do you know?"

"Uh, most of it."

She paused, "Excuse me?"

"I know everything from the origins and spread of magic across Europe, Asia, and the Americas, until modern day."

"Oh, is that so?" Her voice was still infuriatingly slow and condescending.

Gilbert was _very_ tempted to jump across the table and throttle Umbridge. Who did she think she was? How _dare _she treat _Prussia_, the basically _(and unfortunately)_ immortal personification of the spirit of nation! She'd barely lived a _fraction _of what he'd seen, and _she_ had the audacity to pretend like she was better than him?

"Yeah, it is." He hissed out.

Umbridge smirked, her toad-like smile stretching across her face. "Well then, why don't we prove that?" She pulled out a small stack of papers from her bag, sliding them over to Gilbert.

Gilbert stared blankly. _Okay, what the fuck_.

"While you answer these, we," She gestured around to the rest of the table, "will go and discuss your employment further."

_I'm not a stupid child you unawesome piece of shit._

"Yeah, that's _great_." _You goddamn toad._

Gilbert slid the first paper off the stack, pulling a pen from his pocket. As the rest of the occupants of the room left, several of the wizards gave Gilnert strange looks.

_Wizards_. He snorted.

The stern witch who had stopped Fudge gave a Prussia a sympathetic glance. Prussia looked over at the exiting Fudge and rolled his eyes, smiling. The witch smiled.

Prussia looked over at the first question.

_When did the first witch burning in Britain take place?_

Oh, right, Gilbert remembered those. _Yeah, this is going to be easy._

Twenty minutes later Gilbert marched outside and shoved the papers at Dolores' face, "I hope you'll find this satisfactory." He grinned.

Dolores looked over at him, sweet expression morphing into an uneasy smile, "Oh, is that _so_?" She handed the papers to the teenager, who was staring angrily at Gilbert. "You will receive your results in the next two to three days." Prussia desperately wanted to roll his eyes at her continued use of the slow, 'you are really stupid and I'm aware of this fact while rubbing it in your face' tone.

"I'll be waiting." He glared at her, red eyes shining. A trickle of fear passed across Dolores' face. Gilbert smirked.

Lukas looked up from his book and at Gilbert, "Are you done?"

Gilbert watched as Fudge, Umbridge, and the annoying red-haired kid marched out the door. "Yeah, I think so."

Dumbledore walked over to Gilbert, a tired smiled adorned on his face. "I hope you'll forgive their behavior, the Ministry is currently adamantly denying everything I say, and others are suffering for it." He sighed, "Well, if Harry Potter can make it through his hearing and still be allowed into Hogwarts, I think that you must have got your job."

"Oh, he's not expelled."

"Thankfully, no, but I never expected him to really be expelled." Dumbledore smiled again, shaking Gilbert's hand.

"And a pleasant evening to you as well, Mr. Bondevik." The white-haired wizard waved goodbye to Lukas, who was awkwardly standing next to McGonagall.

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later, when Prussia and Norway were safely back at England's house (and after Prussia had recovered from the recoil), he only had one thing to say.<p>

"British wizards are so fucked up."

* * *

><p>Two days later, back at Germany's house, a barn owl flew in halfway through dinner, carrying confirmation of Prussia's acceptance as a teacher. The barn owl had also eaten half of Prussia's dinner before flying back out again.<p>

* * *

><p><em>*Thanks to MyrnaMaeve from Ao3 for providing me with this fantastic insult.<em>


	5. Chapter 5

**Teutonic Magic: The Hogwarts Express**

* * *

><p>Gilbert walked into the busy station of Kings' Cross with six suitcases loaded onto a cart, one Gilbird perched on his head, one Germany, and one Italy Veneziano. Feliciano looked around, confused, "So where's Platform Nine and Three Quarters?" Ludwig had insisted on seeing on seeing Gilbert onto the train, and since he was going, Feliciano had also wanted to come.<p>

"Well Alistair said you have to run into the brick wall between Nine and Ten for 'security purposes', but in my opinion, that's pretty shitty 'security.'" Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Oh well, it's his magic school."

"Wait, _through _the wall?"

"Yeah, it's magic."

Ludwig looked concernedly at Gilbert, "_Bruder_, are you sure?"

"Yeah, see, look!"

Gilbert pointed at a large crowd of people carrying trunks and owls, a pair of them sliding through the wall. _Hang on… is that… Harry Potter?_

"But, those people are magic, and we're… not. Wouldn't it make sense if the wall only reacted to magical people?"

Gilbert paused, "That would make it _way_ less impractical… Well, we're nations! You probably have a little magic." _Not enough for spells or anything though._

Feliciano nervously sidled up to the wall, lifting his hand. He poked at the wall, and shrieking loudly in Italian when it went though, "_GERMANY THE WALL'S TRYING TO EAT-_"

Prussia rushed over and clasped Italy's mouth, "Yeah, yeah, we get it! Now go through before you reveal the entire magic community!"

Italy nodded, looking around before he slipped through the wall. Germany and Prussia soon followed.

Hundreds of students, some dressed in black robes, some still in muggle attire, mingle and mixed. A few had begun to board the train, younger students clutching onto their parents or siblings robes, eyes darting around.

Prussia smiled at Italy and Germany's amazed expressions, and even Prussia had to admit that the platform was rather nice.

"So, I'll see you Christmas then!"

Germany turned to face Prussia, "See you _bruder, _it'll be a lot quieter without you screaming your weird music and inviting France and Spain over"

Prussia's smile widened, "Don't worry, there's a type of magic letter than yells its contents! Plus, I'll find a way to connect the mirrors to our house."

Italy bounced over, "So how does whole thing work? I think Romano tried to explain magic to me once but I didn't really get it? Is it like the 2p's mirrors?"

"I dunno, I'm pretty sure it's some kind of… secret entrance from King's Cross to here? The track probably has repelling spells and invisibility charms on it, you'll have to ask one of the UK brother's for details." Prussia shrugged.

Germany wrapped his arms around Prussia, awkwardly hugging him. Prussia patted him on the back, "Well, see you later!" He gave Germany and Italy a salute before stepping onto the train.

Gilbert walked down the hall, ignoring the stares of students who were obviously wondering why an albino 20 year old (_well, from their perspective, he was a lot older_) with a yellow bird perched on his head was on the Hogwarts Express. He slid open a door to an empty compartment and settled in the corner. Gilbert peered out the window to see Germany squatting down to pet the black dog that sat next to Harry Potter.

The door slid open, and Gilbert spun over to see a startled-looking girl, dirty blond hair hanging to her waist. A pair of pink and blue opaque glasses were perched on her nose, and she wore a necklace made of bottle caps. Still, Gilbert was a nation, he was used to slightly crazy people. Plus the girl wasn't screaming or gaping at his red eyes, so that was always a plus.

"Oh, hello." Her voice was rather floaty, like she wasn't quite focusing on this particular conversation. Her greyish-blue eyes flicked up to Gilbird, who chirped in response.

"_Hallo_." Gilbert shifted aside nervously, making room despite the fact the whole compartment was open.

The girl smiled dreamily and sat across from Gilbert, pulling out a magazine labeled 'The Quibbler.'

"My name's Luna Lovegood, and you look a bit old to be a student."

"Yeah, I'm the new History of Magic teacher. Gilb- well, I guess Professor Beilschmidt." Getting used to being called 'professor' was certainly going to take time.

"History of Magic?" Luna may have lifted an eyebrow, it was rather hard to tell through her weird glasses that should really have prohibited vision. "I would've thought that you'd be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Gilbert shrugged, "Well, that slot was taken before I could get to it; plus I know way more about History than I do about defensive spells."

"Oh, that's nice. All of the previous teachers have left after a year." She looked back at her magazine, opening it. The compartment settled into an uncomfortable silence. Gilbert couldn't help but notice the fact the magazine, was, in fact, upside-down. Maybe he could've chosen a better place to sit.

The train shuddered and began to slowly move down the tracks. Gilbert peered outside to see the black dog leaping besides the train, tongue hanging open. Muffled voices could be heard outside the compartment, and the door was slid open to reveal three students. A red-haired girl, Harry Potter, and a round-face boy grasping onto a toad.

"Oh, hello Lun-" The redhead began before seeing Gilbert.

"Hello Ginny!" Luna responded cheerfully.

The two boys were both staring at Gilbert, the one holding the toad more in fear. Gilbert gave a small wave. "_Hallo._"

Ginny nervously sat next to Luna, nodding back in response. Luna smiled, "This is Professor Beilschmidt. He's the new History of Magic teacher."

"History of Magic?" Harry spoke, confused.

"Yeah, the Defense Against the Dark Arts post was taken."

Harry continued to stare before Ginny shoved him in the compartment. The three of them sat opposite from Gilbert, all eyeing him nervously.

"Since everyone here probably wants to know," Luna said, "Are you a vampire?"

Gilbert snorted, "I thought nobody would ever ask! No, I'm not." A collective sigh could be heard across the room, "Everyone's just been giving me weird stares and being nervous, they never just ask!" _Wonder what would've happened if Vlad was here…_

"Cornelius Fudge is a vampire, you know." Luna responded smoothly. Everyone looked over at her, concerned. She looked up, observing their faces, "He's a vampire and is going to raise an undead army."

Silence.

Gilbert stared at the cloudy-gray skies, Gilbird chirping once in a while. The toad-boy spoke up.

"Harry, guess what I got for my birthday?"

"Another Remembrall?"

"No… I could do with one, though. I lost the old one ages ago. No, look at this…" He shoved his hand into his schoolbag, pulling out a small potted cactus, that, after further inspection, Gilbert realized was a-

"_Mimbulus Mimbletonia._" The boy gazed at his plant with pride. Harry stared at it with disgust.

Despite the plant's resemblance to a dying human heart, Gilbert _did _know of their rarity.

"Where'd you get one of those?"

He looked over at Gilbert, slightly scared, "Uh- well, my great-uncle got it for me when he was in Assyria."

"Neat. So, what's your name?" _Might as well get a head start on learning them._

"Neville Longbottom…" Neville mumbled. _Longbottom? Like those people who…_

"So, the… plant-" Harry's tone was tentative.

"_Mimbulus mimbletonia_."

"Yeah, does it- uh- do anything?" Harry asked.

Neville lightened up instantly, "Yeah, loads! It's got an amazing defensive mechanism- hold Trevor for a second." He placed his toad onto Harry's lap and dug around his bag, holding up a quill.

Luna looked up from his magazine, watching. Neville held up the plant, staring intensely.

_Wait, don't those- _Neville sharply prodded the plant with the quill. As thick, smelly green spurts of liquid flew from the plant, Gilbert swore loudly in German. He lifted his hands, attempting to cover himself. A coating of green slime covered Gilbert's arms and head. Neville and Harry were completed soaked, while Luna and Ginny had managed to evade most of the stuff.

Neville wiped off the slime, "S-sorry, I haven't tried that before…" _Obviously. _"Don't worry thought! Stinksap's not poisonous." Harry spat some.

The door slid open again, and a girl with long, shiny, black hair stood in the doorway. "Oh… hello Harry." She said nervously, "Um, bad time?"

Harry's face reddened, and as the door shut he groaned loudly.

As Ginny cleaned up the mess, Gilbert patted Harry on the shoulder. "Don't worry, once my brother mistook some signals and ended up proposing two days later."

After the food trolley came and went, Gilbert shortly fell asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Harry's POV<strong>

* * *

><p>After Professor Beilschmidt had fallen asleep, Ron and Hermione finally showed up. Harry was swapping a Chocolate Frog card with Ginny when Ron and Hermione walked in, along with Crookshanks and a screeching, caged Pigwidegeon.<p>

Ron threw himself onto the seat, "I'm starving," He grabbed a Chocolate Frog and immediately bit into the head. He lay back, eyes closed.

"Well, there are two fifth-year prefects from each house, a boy and a girl." Hermione looked incredibly cross.

"Guess who's a Slytherin prefect?" Ron said.

"Malfoy?"

Ron angrily shoved the rest of the frog into his mouth, "Yeah."

"And that complete _cow_ Pansy Parkinson. How she got to be a prefect when-" Hermione looked over at the professor, "Who's that?"

"New History of Magic teacher."

Hermione's eyes widened, "_Him? _He looked awfully young to be teaching."

Luna spoke from behind _The Quibbler_, "I don't think it matters how old he is." Everyone stared at her.

Hermione gave Luna a strange glance, "Excuse me?"

Luna put down her magazine. "It doesn't really matter how old someone is, even if they're a teacher." She continued on, dreamily, "He reminds me a lot of a man I met in Russia when I went searching for Helianothus'…" She trailed off. Hermione had an perplexed expression, Ron shook his head.

Harry glanced over at Luna's magazine, and, while it had been hard to see what it was upside-down, he could now see the cover was a bad cartoon of the minister. Underneath the caption, '_How Far Will Fudge go to Gain Gringotts?_' was a list of the magazine's contents. _'Corruption in the Quidditch League: How the Tornadoes are Taking Control, Secrets of the Ancient Runes Revealed, Countries: Can They Be Human?_' and, '_Sirius Black: Villain or Victim?_'

Harry's eyes widened. "Can I have a look at this?" He pointed at the magazine. Luna nodded.

He opened it up, flipping to the article. It was also illustrated with a scribbly cartoon of Sirius. What was supposed to be him standing on a pile of human remains. _'Sirius Black: Black As He's Painted, or Innocent Singing Sensation?_' Harry stared, reading the headlines several times. Underneath was a short article, feebly attempting to convince readers that Sirius Black, was in fact, not a mass murderer, and was instead Stubby Boardman, the former lead singer of the Hob Goblins.' Perhaps it was only a joke? There was no way anyone could possibly believe such a thing. Harry flipped to the next article.

_Countries: Can They Be Human? _Along with this was a drawing of a man wearing a British flag for a t-shirt, captioned 'Could Britain be Living Next To You?'

We have all long believed that our countries were simply masses of land with large groups of people living together and a government. _But it that all?_ There have long been rumors of national anthropomorphic personifications, humans who represent nations. Sightings go as far back as Rome, appearing throughout history. They often go by human names, appearing to only be regular citizens.

"I saw one once, when I went to Italy," Says Charlotte Gachis, "I knew he was odd the moment I saw him. He had a curly string of hair and was flirting with some girls. When I saw his eyes, I could tell he was odd. They look pretty young, but they're hundreds of years old. Probably immortal as well." Charlotte is not the only person who's seen them, sightings from South Korea to Romania have also been reported.

What affect do these people have on our governments? Are they responsible for wars and the deaths of millions? The Ministry claims they have no such knowledge on such a thing, but can we _really believe_ them? As we learn more about these people, we can finally discover the truth that has for so long been kept from us.

Harry stopped reading after that. Immortality was not possible, and he found it highly difficult to believe a single person, or a group of people, could possibly represent nations.

The rest of the magazine was no better, from Cornelius Fudge's alleged goblin-killing scheme, to riding to the moon on a broomstick, and the Tornadoes' Quidditch team blackmailing their way through the tournament. Harry decided to stop reading.

"Anything good in there?" Asked Ron.

"Of _course _not," Hermione rolled her eyes, "The Quibbler's complete rubbish, everyone knows that."

Luna glared at her, "Excuse me." Her voice was scathing, "My Father's the editor."

Hermione, "I- Oh." She coughed, "Well, I mean, it's got some interesting-"

"I'll have it back, thank you." She grabbed her magazine back, flipping it upside-down and began to read again.

* * *

><p>And we finally update! I wanted to make this longer but I didn't want to make everyone wait, plus if I split it up into another chapter I can probably get more detail.<p>

FUN FACT: Gâchis means 'a good idea wasted by staggering amount of idiocy.' Wow wonder why I chose that name.


	6. Chapter 6

**Teutonic Magic: Trains, Thestrals, and Twats**

* * *

><p>Prussia paced through the field, back hunched, face low. Blood stained the dirt, bodies strewn across like rag dolls. Prussia didn't spare them a glance. They weren't the ones he was looking for.<p>

A boy, nearly a teenager, lay limp on the dying grass. His blond hair covered his closedeyes.

Prussia heart sunk. He whispered, his voice cracking, "Heilige Römische Reich…" He kneeled down, reaching out and picking the small body up.

It was still warm. Prussia's eyes widened, his hand touching against the boy's chest. A weak heartbeat pulsed.

His eyes fluttered open, gazing dazedly at Prussia's face. "Where am…"

Prussia pulled him close, "It's okay, you're safe now. Everything's going to be fine." He whispered. Tears trickled down his cheek.

"There was a girl… who was…?" Holy Rome mumbled, "Who am I?"

Prussia held him tighter, "You're…-"

Gilbert's eyes shot open, "_Deutschland!_" He yelled, knocking over a stack of carefully constructed playing cards.

A different red-headed teenager, rather lanky and more freckled, swore loudly as the cards hit the floor and let out a small explosion. A small owl in a cage let out a loud shriek.

"Ron!" A girl with exceptionally frizzy brown hair glared at the boy.

"Sorry, sorry."

Gilbert leaned over and grabbed the singed cards, "It's really my fault, but, playing with exploding cards in an exploding space is a _terrible_ idea. Trust me." _France wouldn't leave his room for days._

Ron's eyes widened as Gilbert handed him the cards, staring at his eyes fearfully. Gilbert gave him a grin, "Not a vampire, if that's what you were wondering."

"Ron Weasley."

"Gi-Professor Beilschmidt." _Yeah, still not used to it._

"I'm Hermione Granger." The curly-haired girl who had scolded Ron spoke. Gilbert scratched his head, "Yeah, aren't you two the new prefects or something?"

Before either could respond, the glass compartment door slammed open. A boy who's hair was nearly as pale as Gilbert's stood in the doorway, smirking. He was flanked by two hulking meat sacks that vaguely resembled people, faces contorted into trollish smiles.

"What?!" Harry said savagely, yet the pale boy seemed unscathed.

"_Manners_, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention." His drawling voice dripping with smugness. "Tell me, how does it feel to be second to _Weasley_." _Oh, so he's that kind of person._

"Shut _up_ Malfoy!" Hermione hissed.

"I seemed to have touched a nerve." He smirked, "Just watch yourself _Potter_, I'll be _dogging _your footsteps in case-_" _Malfoy caught sight of Gilbert, who, unlike the rest of the compartment, was dressed in muggle clothing, "And who are you_?" _His voice was scathing, like Gilbert's very presence was insulting him.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"Why _are _you here? You're clearly too old to be a _student_."

The rest of the compartment could barely hold in their laughter. Gilbert gave Malfoy a forced smile, "I'm the new History of Magic teacher." Malfoy's eyes bulged, filled with panic. Luna Lovegood let out a snort behind _The Quibbler_.

After giving him a nod, Gilbert flicked his wrist, the door to banging shut in Malfoy's stunned face. The compartment burst into laughter, Luna having to lie down for several minutes to stop laughing.

_That arschloch is so getting detention._

* * *

><p>Hours passed, the skies shifting from grey to an uneasy pale blue, and finally to a dark moonless sky, rain hitting the window. The train let out a screeching noise as it shuddered to a halt. Gilbird let out a chirp and buried himself deeper into Prussia's hair. Prussia stood up, watching as dozens of students streamed out of compartments. He pulled out his suitcase and edged out the door. The two prefects - Ron and Hermione - strode out, prefect badges pinned to their clothes.<p>

* * *

><p>The smell of pine trees and sharp night air hit Prussia the moment he left the train. Thankfully the dark masked his hair and eyes, avoiding strange glances. Prussia followed the crowd of older students towards the carriages - <em>hang on<em>.

What kind of school used _thestrals _for _carrying students_?! Prussia wasn't exactly certain on the _exact _mythology of thestrals, but he wasn't fairly certain that they weren't exactly the luckiest of creatures.

Harry Potter stood staring at the creatures, grasping onto his owl. Prussia watched as Luna ambled over, said something, and climbed into the carriage. While Luna looked like she was trying to be comforting, Harry didn't seem reassured. As Prussia climbed into the carriage next to them, whispering to Harry, "It's fine."

Prussia sat in the empty carriage, watching the black sky trundle by. The only sounds was that of rain hitting the pavement and the occasional chirp from Gilbird.


	7. Chapter 7

**Teutonic Magic: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

* * *

><p>The carriages lurched to a stop. Gilbert jumped out, watching as the crowds of students mobbed towards the entrance. Gilbert weaved through the crowd and raced through the large oak doors to the Great Hall.<p>

Four long tables stood next to each other, large banners unfurled from the ceiling. A red lion, a green snake, a blue raven, and a golden badger. Torches hung from the walls, while candles floated across the Hall. The ceiling was enchanted to match the inky black sky. The calls of students rang across the room as the tables were quickly filled up. Gilbert, not dressed in any robes and with a bird perched in his wet hair, stuck out like a sore thumb, and was receiving many odd glances from wary students.

Gilbert speed-walked the way to large table, elevated slightly higher than the rest of the room, and took a seat next to-

_Oh _**_fuck. _**It _couldn't _be.

Umbridge looked over at Prussia, eyes skeptically glancing over his attire before giving him a sugary smile. "Well hello Gilbert! Pleasure to see you here." _Well, at least she's not treating me like I'm stupid this time._

Prussia attempted to cover his disgust and nodded back, trying to subtly squeeze the water out of his hair. _Stop looking at me like some kind of freak when _**_you're _**_the one wearing a pink cardigan._

_How the _**_hell _**_did Dolores Umbridge get a teaching position?_ Dumbledore wouldn't ever let her in. Sure, tensions between Dumbledore and the Ministry were escalating, but if the Ministry was sending one of their own to basically spy on Hogwarts…

_What a bunch of dummkopfs, hasn't anyone learned anything?_

Prussia sighed and cast his eyes towards the rain-streaked windows. The sooner the first years came, the sooner he'd get to eat.

As if on cue, the doors swung open revealing a line of nervous first years lead by the severe-looking woman wearing emerald green robes (Prussia was pretty sure her name was Minerva McGonagall), leading them to the front of the Great Hall, in front of the rest of the school. The tiny first years' were frozen with fear, some glancing over at Prussia. He gave them a grin and a thumbs up. A few of them seemed calmed by this, while other's panicked even more, staring wide-eyed at him.

McGonagall placed a stool and a raggedy old hat down. Prussia squinted at it - Scotland had mentioned something about this - was it really going to _sing_?

A rip in the old hat opened, and sure enough, it began its' song.* _Well, I've seen weirder things.**_

Prussia didn't pay attention throughout the sorting, preoccupied with his unfortunately empty stomach. _Really should've bought some food on the train. _He blankly stared at shifting black ceiling. After _way too long_, Dumbledore stood up and smiled. "To our newcomers, welcome! To our old hands - welcome back!" His voice rang across the hall, clear as a bell. "There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

Prussia grinned, applauding with the crowds of appreciative students. He looked back at the table and nearly jumped in surprise. Food had appeared across the table, nearly every kind imaginable. Gilbert began to pile food onto his plate, nearly shoving it all in his mouth before remembering the eyes of the staff, mostly Dolores Umbridge.

As Gilbert tried to pace himself with a steak, he could feel Umbridge's accusing eyes staring at the back of his neck.

"So," She began, "how has your brother been?"

Gilbert swallowed, "Good."

Umbridge continued, "I couldn't help but notice," _You probably could_, "that your muggle brother works for the government." Gilbert cringed slightly at the way she said 'muggle.'

"Yeah, he does."

"What does he do?"

Gilbert paused, "Mostly diplomatic stuff. Goes to different countries." He shoved another piece of steak in his mouth, hoping that Umbridge would just _leave._

Thankfully, Dumbledore rescued him. He tapped Umbridge on the shoulder just as she began another question. Gilbert silently thanked the world and skewered a potato on his fork, Gilbird poking his beak into some soup.

When the feast ended, Dumbledore stood up again. The hall went silent, all eyes on Dumbledore.

"Now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices. First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students - and a few of our older students should know by now." He smiled, and a few people in the crowd exchanged smiles.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundredth and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is _not _permitted in corridors between classes." Gilbert thought back to the two years that he had attended his own magic school, when he had blinded two students and broke twelve bones in the third one's wrist. _Yeah, I can see why that's banned._ "A large number of other items are also considered contraband can found on the extensive list on Mr. Filch's office door."

"We have had three changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons again. In addition, Professor Beilschmidt will be our new History Of Magic teacher, while Professor Umbridge is taking the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Gilbert gave a wave to the students, who were politely clapping. _Psh, now that I've graced their presence they should crying with joy! _He still didn't understand why nations were always kept a secret to people, back when he was little everyone knew who he was! _Shit, I sound like an old person_.

"Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the —" Dumbledore stopped. The students (and several teachers) exchanged glances of confusion. Gilbert looked over at Umbridge, who was smiling politely and standing up (it was rather hard to tell, she wasn't much taller standing up than sitting down.) She gave an irritating little cough, then stared sweetly at the students. Dumbledore looked taken aback, but then sat down and looked directly at Umbridge like the whole thing was planned. Gilbert raised an eyebrow.

"Thank you, Headmaster, for those kind words of welcome." She gave another cough and returned back to her sickly sweet smile, "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" Gilbert tried to stop himself from sighing. "And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!" None of the students were smiling, and were instead glaring at Umbridge like she had sprouted a second head.

Umbridge's tone shifted into the dull tone used by businessmen when showing a particularly boring presentation. "The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical…" Umbridged droned on and one, Gilbert's attention quickly slipping away (along with the rest of the students.) He tried to preoccupy himself by chugging a cup of pumpkin juice.

After several particularly long and boring minutes, Umbridge finally sat down. Dumbledore began to clap, and an uneasy and uninspired round of applause came from the staff and students.

Dumbledore stood up again, giving a few announcements on Quidditch tryouts before dismissing the students. As Gilbert stood up, he was struck with the realization he had no idea where he was supposed to sleep.

He tapped Dumbledore's shoulder.

"Hey- uh-"

"Albus will do just fine, Gilbert." Dumbledore smiled easily, and Prussia relaxed.

"I don't know where I'm supposed to sleep, which is probably an issue."

Dumbledore chuckled, "No need to worry, you won't need to to sleep on the floor. I can show you where you're staying."

The two of them walked through the halls, Prussia watching as large crowds of students filtered through, led by prefects.

They went up stairs, and Prussia nearly had a mini heart attack when one of them swung to another part of the building, Dumbledore watching amusedly as Prussia clutched onto the rails.

When they finally reached the room (it was close to the Northern Towers, with only a few sleeping paintings hanging from the wall.)

Prussia pulled open the door, flicking on the lights. Dumbledore spoke, "I made sure that it had a mirror, just in case your friends need help." He gave Prussia a wink, and swept away.

The room was circular, with a large window covered by a dark red curtain next to the mirror hanging next to an empty drawer. A desk sat opposite to a bed with a quilt lying on top of it.

His bags were lying next to his bed, but Prussia was too tired to actually unpack. He pulled out his pajamas (and a tiny nightcap for Gilbird), got changed, and flung himself into bed. A few minutes later, Prussia sleepily stared at the mirror. _I still don't know how to use that damn thing._

* * *

><p><em>AN: Bluh, sorry for the wait! I was going to post chapter 6 separately but it was just way too sort for such a long wait._

_Sorry it took so long school and life got in the way, but hopefully the next few chapters will come soon (no promises though ono)_

_* I didn't want to fill up the page with the song, but you can read it here! wiki/Sorting_Hat. It's the 1995 one._

_** I'm still not entirely sure if Paint in White! wasn't just a mass hallucination shared by the entire Hetalia fandom._


	8. Shorts: Mirrors

Shorts: Mirrors

A/N: **This is set place a while after the current place in the story, after Harry brings Hedwig to Professor Grubblyplank**. Since I update sporadically, hopefully these can tide you guys over until the next chapter.

Gilbert knocked on the mirror, nearly calling out. "Gilen! Hey - Gilen can you hear me?" The surface began to shimmer, and an image of Gilbert's 2P stood tiredly. His long greyish hair was swept up in a ponytail, and his blue eyes had dark bags hanging from them.

"Gilbert, why on Earth would you call me at this time?"

"What? No, it's like, noon."

Gilen sighed and rubbed his eyes, "Time differences, remember. Your noon is our midnight."

"Oh, yeah." An silence insued, until Gilbert remember why'd contacted Gilen in the first place. "So anyway, how do you walk through these things?" Gilbert tapped the mirror, causing ripples to stream across the surface.

Gilen raised an eyebrow, "Why would you need to use them? Surely you have other forms of traveling."

"Yeah, but I'm at this magic school and this old hag is monitoring like every way of communication."

Gilen pulled a chair over, and sat down, rubbing his forehead. "It takes months of practice and focus to pull yourself from one universe to another. Not only do you have to have to open the portals through the centering of your self, but if you are unprepared, traversing through universe can be deadly. Your very soul is at stake, an open book to other worlds, anything with enough power can seize it; and while the connection between this world and yours is safer and easier to open, it's still quite a feat to simply walk through worlds."

"Yeah, yeah, but how do you get through?"

"Oliver discovered it, when he was having one of his 'family dinners' Allen threw a knife through the mirror, Oliver went through his entire spellbook collection to get it bcak and managed to discover how to go through. Matt was the first one to go use the mirror, since Oliver didn't have the patience to-."

"You're ranting again."

"I'm aware. Oliver didn't have the patience, but Matt learnt how to stabilize his soul through meditation, dream diaries, and an diet obnoxiously high in citrus."

"So I have to stabilize my soul? That sounds like something a drunken hippie would say."

"It's for defense. The soul has to be whole to protect itself against outer forces. Norway - our Norway, wrote a whole book on it."

Gilbert perked up, "Can I read it?"

Gilen rubbed his eyes, "If I say yes, will you leave?"

"Yeah, but you have to deliver these." Gilen sighed yet again, sticking out his hand through the mirror. Gilbert handed him the letters and grinned. "Thanks Gil!"

"Don't call me that, and you are welcome. Please refrain from contacting me at this time again, it's hard to sleep with Luciano in this house."

On cue, a stream of slightly muffled Italian curse words rang through the house. Gilen closed his eyes and muttered, "How does he manage to get through all of my silencing spells…"


	9. Chapter 8

Harry was in a terrible mood as he marched through the halls, a few students scattering and throwing glances over as they entered the Great Hall; who's skies were a depressing shade of grey. Seamus' betrayal the previous night had let a bitter taste in his mouth, and the rest of the school's attitude towards him wasn't helping.

Harry looked up at the teachers' Professor Beilschmidt, dressed in muggle clothing like the previous night, was talking with Professor Flitwick, his tiny yellow bird flittering across the table. The trio stared for a couple seconds, but moved over to their table.

"Bit of a weirdo, don't you think?" Ron muttered, piling breakfast sausages onto his plate.

"I'm sure he's qualified…" Hermione sat next to Ron, beginning to butter some toast.

"Yeah, just like Lockhart."

Before Hermione could respond, a flood of owls came through the windows. Brown and black wings filled the ceiling, but Hedwig was nowhere to be found. After all, it was only the first day. A large barn owl, slightly soaked, landed on the table with a thud. Hermione placed a coin in the leader pouch tied to the owls's leg, opening up theDaily Prophet.

"What are you still getting that for?" Harry asked irritably, "Load of rubbish if you ask me."

Hermione flipped open the paper, "It's best to know what the enemy are saying." She said before disappearing behind the Daily Prophet.

A few minutes later, "Nothing," she said, olling up the newspaper and laying it down by her plate. "Nothing about you or Dumbledore or anything."

Professor McGonagall was handing out schedules, as Ron opened his up he let out a groan.

"Look at today! History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts … , Snape, Trelawney, that weird new professor, and that Umbridge woman all in one day! I wish Fred and George'd hurry up and get those Skiving Snackboxes sorted…"

As if they had been summoned, the two of them appeared.

Gilbert paced around his classroom, nervously staring at the clock. 7:56. It would only be a few minutes before the first students would arrive. He mentally shuffled through his lesson plans, nervously petting Gilbird all the while.

"Do you think I need to make a dramatic entrance? You know, something to startle them into being awake!" He asked Gilbird.

Gilbird only chirped in response.

"You're right, we've gotta impress them! Show them our stuff!"

Gilbert looked around the newly decorated classroom (he'd awoken at five to set everything up) to catch his eyes on his old Teutonic Knights' sword, at least a few centuries old, hung from the wall.

_Perfect_.

Harry walked into the classroom. He had no clue on how this new teacher would, he could only hope that he would be more interesting than Binns. Then again, any teacher was better. Except maybe Lockhart.

The room had been completely redecorated. The walls were completely covered in old photographs and pictures of historical events. An empty sword hilt hung from the wall. There wasn't a single speck of dirt to be found, not even in the bird cage on the desk in the front of the room. Professor Beilschmidt was nowhere to be seen.  
>A minute passed, the rest of the students looking around apprehensively. Ron whispered to Harry. "Reckon something happened?"<p>

Harry shook his head, "No, he was here this morning."

A minute passed. Harry's eyes idly wandered to the window. Perhaps he had simply forgotten?

The sky was still depressingly rainy, all of the campus greyed out except the hurtling figure -

Wait, what?

With a loud CRASH, Professor Beilschmidt somersaulted through the window. He stood up, rain in his hair. A shard of glass was stuck in his sleeve, and blood trickled down his face. Professor Beilschmidt's eyes glimmered with glee, grinning wildly. He grasped an antique sword in his left hand, and with a flourish he pointed it at the ceiling. Everyone backed away several inches, most faces frozen with terror.

"WHO'S READY THE LEARN FROM THE AWESOME ME‽"

After the initial shock had worn off, Professor Beilschmidt had proceeded to repair the window, apologize to the students, and put back the sword.

"Well, that was fun." He grabbed the attendance list and began to read off it, like it was perfectly normal to smash through the window while brandishing a sword on the first day of classes.

After they finished attendance, he put down the parchment. "I want to start from magic's origins, but there's no point if you've already learned that stuff. What topics have you covered?"

Hermione was the only one who raised her hand. "Goblin Rebellions, sir. And Witch Burnings."

"And?"

"Uh- that's it."

Professor Beilschmidt stared. "That's it?"

Hermione nodded.

Professor Beilschmidt sat still for a moment before rubbing his forehead, "_Gott im Himmel_- Well, I guess that means we'll be starting from the beginning." He sighed, standing up.

"Okay, who knows where European magic originated from?"

Hermione's hand shot up. Professor Beilschmidt pointed at her.

"Rome, sir!"

"Wrong!"

Hermione's eyes widened. Beilschmidt smiled, "Okay, you're nearly correct. Most spells that we use today came from came from the Roman Empire, but European magic REALLY began from Greece!"

Hermione raised her hand again.

"Hm?"

"Sir, where are you getting your information? That isn't in any of our textbooks."

He paused, "Your textbooks are wrong, but I can't blame them! Not many people know, but magic came to Ancient Greece first from Egypt, but they didn't do much with it. It was a new skill, and they were scared by it. They only developed, like, a dozen or so spells, mostly used for healing. A couple of them stuck, and so those healing spells - you probably know them - are still used today. When Rome invaded, they found out about magic and developed it further."

Professor Beilschmidt then launched into a lecture about Rome, stopping to answer any questions, and launching into a dramatic reenactment of a few battles between the Roman magicians Ophelia and Scipio.

Harry couldn't help but find himself actually paying attention. His classes were infinitely more interesting than Binns', especially when about halfway through the block he pulled out an actual Roman staff and nearly blasted a hole in the wall. When questioned on where he got the staff, he simply replied that his brother had connections with a very old Italian family.

When the bell rang, Professor Beilschmidt stopped in the middle of the comparison between the Roman staff and the modern wand.

"So hopefully you've actually learned something today. Homework's six inches on the effects of Ancient Rome on modern European magic, due next Friday, come to me for questions, I'll know the answers. If it's late I'll cut your legs off! Oh yeah, and I'm going to try to get a couple of my… friends to give presentations on magic in a few weeks from now."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked down to Snape's dungeon.

"He seems qualified, but I've never read anything on a few of those topics he was mentioning. No textbook has ever mentioned Ophelia being the sister of Lycoris. Where is he getting his information?" Hermione said.

Ron shrugged, "He did say he had connections. You just don't want to admit your books might not know something."

Hermione glowered, "Oh please, just because I want sources for my information doesn't mean I believe everything I read. I mean, just look at the Daily Prophet!"

They joined the rest of the Slytherins and Gryffindors, who were taking their places. As Snape swept into the room, the entire class fell silent.

During lunch, Prussia was attempting to ignore Umbridge, who was currently staring, unflinchingly at 't she need to blink?

Prussia gave Umbridge a glare, stabbing down his fork. She smiled wider.

"Do you want something?"

"Hm, yes." Umbridge cleared her throat, "It has come to attention that you threatened a student earlier."

Oh, right. "Yeah, that's not what happened."

"But I distinctly recall overhearing a student saying she had a sword pointed at her."

"Yeah, I had a sword. I didn't 'point' it at anyone. I picked it up, but I didn't point it at anyone.."

"Gilbert, you are endangering the lives of your students!"

"We are literally all carrying _wands_. Wands are more deadly than swords."

Umbridge's smile faltered for a moment, "Well - "

"If I wanted to hurt someone with a sword, they'd be hurt. Trust me." Prussia scarfed down the rest of his lunch, stood up, and marched away. Ugh.

Prussia walked through the hallways, grumbling to himself. He was so caught up in his annoyance he didn't notice the quickly approaching Luna Lovegood.

The two of them slammed into each other, Luna's strange glasses hitting the floor.

"Oh, _scheiße_ -! Sorry!"

Luna bent down and picked up her glasses, "Oh, no, it's fine."

Prussia suddenly remembered his position as a teacher, "Uh - shouldn't you be at lunch?"

Luna smiled and shook her head, "No, I already ate. The rest of my table don't like it when I stick around for too long."

Oh. Luna stared unblinkingly at Prussia, "You're different, aren't you?"

"What?" Prussia's mind had begun to race. _Did she figure me out - but how?_

"You're not human, right?" _Shitshitshit_.

Prussia gulped, eyes widening, "Well I'm not a vampire -"

"No, not that."

Prussia lowered his voice to a whisper, "Listen, I'm not supposed to tell anyone, I'm basically part of a huge conspiracy, and only are couple people are supposed to know, and you'll get in huge trouble if you do find out. So it's best if you just - don't look into it."

Luna nodded, Prussia expected her to make some ridiculous offhanded mark, but she stayed silent.

The two of them stood there. _Fuck, I must have scared her. "_But - if you promise not to look into this, you can come to my office and we can hang out there." Luna looked up at him, confused.

Prussia jabbed him thumb towards his office, "I know that the 4th year Ravenclaw have my class next, and I have snacks!" _Saved it._

Luna nodded, smiling as the two walked to his classroom.

Unnoticed, a bushy-haired girl and a freckled boy watched from behind a pillar.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I'm sorry that chapters are so sporadic nowadays! Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, hopefully I can update a little sooner, and possibly have another short (I'm thinking of having one with the Magic Trio! :u)_

**_Also sorry for the weird formatting earlier!_**


	10. NEWS UPDATE

Hey guys! ArcaneAdagio here, or AA. Either is fine.

So, you're probably all wondering where the next chapter/short is, right?

Well, the good news is I'm currently working on both! The short will feature the Magic Trio (and possibly a few other nations I headcanon as magical! This _will_ be relevant to the plot later on.) While the chapter features Prussia trying to get through the inspection from Umbridge, Luna and Hermione, and some other stuff.

Some more good news is that this **will **have a sequel, but only one. I am not going to be doing the Half-Blood Prince, as I just can't figure out how it'll fit into the story I've planned.

But, this sequel won't come right away. I'm planning a frying-pangle adventure AU story (which will be hilarious and hopefully dramatic), and Superhero AU for Homestuck. 'Oh no' you might cry, 'not Homestuck!'

Too bad, I've been in Homestuck longer and I will not put off my superhero AU!

**So when is the new chapter coming out?**

Soon, hopefully. I'd say it's about 50% finished, currently at about 1600 words, so it's going to be a long chapter! The short is only about 20% finished (Romania is so hard to write for some reason... u_u.) So, expect those things soon! This fanfiction will not be incomplete, I promise!


	11. Chapter 9

**The Inspection**

A few weeks had passed since the school year began, and the trees had changed colors to a palette of red, orange, and yellow. Crisp, cold air streamed through the castle grounds, freezing the dungeons and lower levels.

Luna and Prussia had set up a kind of regular meeting, usually after the two of them had eaten lunch (it was mutually beneficial, Prussia had an excuse to get away from Umbridge, who seemed to constantly barrage Prussia with a stream of questions about his personal life, while Luna wouldn't have to wander around the hallways alone until her next class.)

On the other hand, Prussia had the unnerving feeling that Hermione Granger and her two friends were constantly judging him, always giving him strange looks during class or when passing through hallways. Prussia was certain that he hadn't let anything slip, even with his letters (Especially after he discovered Harry's owl had been attacked.) Add to that the fact he had stuck consistently with their human names, and he was positive that nothing had leaked out.

Prussia sat in his room, sighing as he glared at the stacks of homework he had to grade. One teacher for seven years' worth of students, with _four_ houses? Prussia let out a groan, flopping over his desk.

"Having trouble keeping up with the work?"

Prussia let out a shrill shriek, falling to the ground with a crash, papers flying everywhere. He instinctively reached out for a sword, only to remember that it was the 20th century and hardly anyone carried those anymore.

"_Gilen_?!" The grey-haired, blue eyed version of him stood in the mirror, mouth contorted into the usual frown.

"Yeah." Gilen walked through the mirror, offering Gilbert a hand, "That was an _excellent_ reaction to a threat, by the way."

Gilbert let out a 'shut up' noise* and stood up. He bent over to pick up the scattered papers, "So why're you here?"

"I'm supposed to deliver some news, apparently I'm everyone's paperboy now." Gilen muttered the last part. "England - your England, mine wouldn't bother - wanted me to tell you that documents regarding the nations have been stolen."

Gilbert's eyes widened, "**_What_**?"

Gilen nodded, "Nothing too serious, just the citizenship files about Lukas and Ludwig. The ones that you use in airports and stuff."

Gilbert let out a sigh of relief. He paced around, "Well, I _think_ I know who stole it."

Gilen sat on the bed, "Hm?"

"Dolores Umbridge."

Gilen raised an eyebrow, "I hope you realize I have no idea who that is."

"She's this annoying, stupid, _arschgeige_ - "

_Knock knock_.

The two Prussia's turned to face the door. Gilbert's eyes widened, "_Go, go!_" He hissed at Gilen, shoving him towards the mirror.

Gilen turned around, dropping a few letters on the floor before slipping through the mirror again.

Just as Gilbert was about to open the door, the knocking resumed. Gilbert pulled open the door, and none other than Dolores Umbridge stood there. A cloying, toady smile was stretched across her face.

"Hello Gilbert! I hope I didn't interrupt anything important." She said, walking through the doorway, "It's just that I have some important news."

Gilbert set down the papers, "And this important news is…?"

"Well, I'm sure you know that I've been appointed to inspect the classes here, to make sure the next generation of students are receiving education they need!"

"I've heard, I read the news." Gilbert responded dryly, "So I guess my inspection's next?" _Great, another excuse to stick your nose where it doesn't belong._

Umbridge smile widened, "Yes! I will be attending the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff fifth year and third year Ravenclaw and Slytherin classes in the next week or two!"

"_Wonderful_." Gilbert let the cynicism drip from his tone, "anything else?"

Umbridge shook her head, "That's all! How's your brother doing?"

Gilbert bit his tongue, refraining himself from giving her a well-earned punch to the face. Still, the temptation was there. "_Fine_."

"And your friend? What was his name - Lukas?"

_Well, that confirms it. _"He's good."

"Tell me, where did you meet Mr. Bondevik? Norway seems rather far for someone who's only come out of East Germany six years ago."

"I think we can save these questions for _tomorrow_." Gilbert said, glaring at Umbridge. She simply smiled, not moving from her place.

"Perhaps you're just trying to postpone your questioning?" Her voice dropped down, "Don't think I don't notice you avoiding me every time I step near. Maybe you have something to hide?"

Gilbert cast his eyes over the mirror for a second, catching a glimpse of Gilen's grey-blue eyes before quickly looking over at Umbridge. "Maybe I like my privacy, and people who don't butt in despite the fact _I've already been through an inspection._"

Umbridge's eyes flickered over to the mirror, then down to the letters. Her smile widened. She let out a small cough, sliding back into the normal tone. Hm- well then! I'll be seeing you tomorrow Gilbert!" As she turned her back to Prussia and slammed the door shut, in what was probably supposed to be dramatic, but ended up just looking ridiculous, due to her stumpy legs and general toad-like features.

Gilbert swore, returning back to his desk. _What wouldn't I give to never see her face again._

He looked to the packet of letters Gilen had left next to the mirror. Umbridge had soured his mood, wiping any desire to grade more papers from his mind. He walked over, grabbing the letters, opening one at random.

_Bonjour Gilbert!_

_How are you, mon ami? I hope that you're well, and that Arthur's horrible food __hasn't poisoned your taste palette__.__ ISN'T MAKING YOU JEALOUS__ hasn't completely killed you yet._

The last few words appeared to have been written with difficultly, a few sloppy lines trying to cross them out and failing miserably. _For two people who can't stand each other, Arthur and France sure as hell spend a lot of time together_. Gilbert continued reading.

_Sorry about that, Arthur still can't seemed to comprehend that his food is garbage., Antonio and I got together a little while ago for a drink. When I see you again, please remind me not to let Antonio get drunk when with Arthur. Pirate battle recreations, while hilarious at first, can get rather painful when you're taken as hostage. Lovino didn't leave his room for three days after, and somehow Hong Kong filmed all of it. I'd send you the video, but I know Arthur can't figure out how to get electronics to work. He is so old-fashioned and just terrible._

_With love,_

_Francis Bonnefroy_

Along with this in blocky, jagged letters; a small note was written in the corner, in English. '_FRANCIS BONNEFROY IS A BLOODY WANKER.'_

Truly incredible.

Gilbert stored the letter in his desk, flipping open West's next. Spaghetti sauce stained the corner of the paper, along with a short note from (presumably) Feliciano.

_Hallo Gilbert,_

_I hope that Arthur's school is good, and that you're taking care of yourself and not trying any of your 'parkour' like you did with Alfred and Mathias before you left. I'm fairly certain Matthew's staircases will never be completely repaired._

_Roderich tells me that his house is a lot quieter nowadays, and that he doesn't miss you. (I'm certain this is a blatant lie, as he walked in a few days ago looking for you. Not to mention he probably got lost on the way to my house, as much as he denies his sense of direction is 'fine.')_

_Elizaveta also claims she 'only kind of misses that white-haired bird asshat', which is probably more true than Roderich's claims, but only slightly. When I came to visit a short while ago the two of them were stuck in a cycle of 'What do you want for dinner? I don't know, what do you want for dinner?' When I asked them where they went normally, they just shrugged and said that you usually dragged them to a place. I'm also sure they are both planning to send a package to you on Christmas._

_A few days ago Blacky and I were on a walk, and there was a very small dog. The two of them proceeded to…_

The rest of the note devolved into several lengthy paragraphs about his dogs. West had never excelled at, well, human interaction; most of his writing descended into an official report about dogs, or what Feliciano had done the previous day. (Prussia would never forget the six-year project documenting Italy's day-to-day life, and the two hundred and eighty five year old journal about his dogs, still ongoing today.)

Veneziano's note (which was also covered spaghetti stains) was sloppily stuck onto the corner of West's letter.

_Ciao Gilbert!_

_Ludwig said I should write an actual letter, but I can't think of anything that he hadn't already written about. The part about his dogs probably wasn't necessary though… did you know that he volunteered at an animal shelter and stayed there for six hours? He looked so happy though, I didn't want to interrupt him…_

_Right now we're having dinner at my house, since Romano's away at Antonio's! We just had our World Meeting there, and Antonio forced Romano to stay (but I'm pretty sure he wanted that anyway. (=ヮ__=೨__) _

_See you soon!_

_Vene Feliciano Vargas (＾ヮ＾__೨__)_

Gilbert smiled, tucking the two letters back into his desk.

He pulled out some paper and a pen.

_Hey West! _

_It's nice to know that the two nerds miss my awesome presence, I'm definitely going to use that information to blackmail them!_

_Still, how's everything going? (You can't answer about your dogs or Italy. You need to make some more friends - Austria and Japan don't count either. Your letter was like 60% about your dogs and Feliciano! Don't do that.) Are you eating enough? Getting enough sleep? Finishing your work on time - actually, that was a stupid question, of course you are. Don't forget to relax!_

_There's this terrible 'government official' who's a teacher here, and I'm sure by the time Gilen remembers to deliver the letter you'll have heard that my citizen papers were taken - it was her! She basically admitted it!_

_Anyway, brush your teeth and bathe regularly! Don't buy six dogs like last time you saw that sad commercial! Make sure you're getting enough exercise!_

_Your totally awesome older bruder,_

_Gilbert_

Gilbert looked over the letter. _Might have overdone it on the advice…_

_Nah, he needs it._

He flicked off the lights, jumping into his bed. Gilbird sidled up next to him, chirping quietly. Gilbert's eyes wandered to the moonlight that filtered through the curtains, stretching shadows across the floor.

Gilbert's stomach twisted, how much farther was Umbridge willing to go to find out about him?

…Would she figure out his secrets? Surely the inspection was just a front to further push the Ministry's power and figure out more about him.

God, why did humans have to be so _persistent_?!

The next day Prussia had to drag himself out of bed, dreading the oncoming barrage of Umbridge's prying questions. He chewed on a piece of buttered toast, Gilbird occasionally poking his beak into the bread.

"Something wrong, Gilbert?" McGonagall sat next to him, sitting straight up (as opposed to Prussia, who was completely slouched over in the most unprofessional manner possible.)

"Yes!" He cried loudly, several teachers looking over, concerned. He lowered his voice. "Yes, there is. My inspection's today."

Well, they aren't terrible. They're utterly useless, but as long as you know what you're doing, you should be fine. I had mine a few days ago, and the 'advice' I received was to 'practice more in theory and respect officials." She let out a snort of amusement. "Like I would make my students sit and read all day."

Prussia bit the roof of his mouth, "Well, you've got it easier. You don't have her dogging my _every step_! She doesn't seem to be satisfied with my family history." _Why can't she be satisfied like everyone else I've had to work with? _He had taken up a few part-time jobs after Prussia had been dissolved, street flutist, history museum worker, fast-food worker, pissed off retail clerk, Berlin Wall climber, part-time corpse after being shot at for trying to climb the Berlin Wall, none of the people _then _had pried _this _deep into his history!

_Ugh_.

"Why?"

Prussia looked over at McGonagall, "My _bruder_'s not a wizard. I think she might want to try and find our parents to find out if I'm a "pureblood", since I never knew for sure." He didn't want to broach the subject of the general strangeness that surrounded nation's and made them so interesting the humans, or the fact he was (physically) 21 year old, had only crossed the Berlin Wall six years earlier, and had somehow traveled the world and had a brother who worked high up in the German government. Prussia was mostly just glad she hadn't found out he was fluent in a handful of languages.

McGonagall sighed, "They always claim that muggleborn bias is over." She shook her head.

Prussia nodded, mouth still filled with bread. He looked over at the entrance of the Great Hall, and swallowed. "Well, she's here now, I'll be going." He stood up, chair scraping against the floor. Prussia attempted the perfect balance between 'get the fuck out of there' and 'casual walking', striding away and trying to avoid the eyes of students and teachers alike. (A hard feat to accomplish, due to his bright white hair and the fact he _still_ hated robes.)

When he reached the classroom, he wasn't surprised in the least to find it was empty (what kind of student would finish breakfast that early?) He walked to his desk and collapsed into a chair. Gilbird fluttered over to the mini-desk Prussia had built the week before, settling on top of the desk.

Prussia patted the tiny bird, "What am I going to _do _if she finds out?" He muttered, leaning back, eyes closed. Gilbird peeped in response. Prussia opened one eye, smiling. "You always know what to say. This is why we get along so well! We should form our _own_ Awesome Duo, never mind America and Denmark."

"Professor?"

Gilbert let out a shriek of surprise, hands flying up in the air. _Shit, Gilen was right about the reactions. _

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all standing in the doorway. Harry looked confused, Ron deeply amused, and Hermione mildly concerned.

"Uh- well-" Gilbert coughed loudly, muttering in German.

"Professor?" Hermione asked again, "Were… you talking to your bird?"

Gilbert's face reddened further, "Talking to pets is very therapeutic! The awesome me doesn't need to explain why!" Gilbert heard Ron mutter to Harry something along the lines of '_did he just refer to himself in the third person?_' **

"Uh - how about we just… pretend this didn't happen." Gilbert cleared his throat, facing the window, "Yeah. Do that."

The next minute proceeded with an uncomfortable silence, the only noises the shuffling of papers and the soft '_plink_' of ink bottles as they made contact with the wooden desks. Gilbert looked over, catching the trio exchanging glances, Harry nodding at Hermione.

"Professor, I have a question." Hermione said. Gilbert inwardly swore. _I knew she knows something! ButI can't just ignore her, that makes things even _**_more _**_suspicious. Gott, why did Fritz have to kick the bucket! He'd probably know what to do. Probably._

"Yes?" Gilbert moved his gaze up to the sword that proudly sat above the window (in a glass case, he wasn't stupid.)

"Um - " Hermione paused, glancing over at Ron, "I was just wondering how you know so much about history? Some of the information you teach doesn't appear in the books."

_Fuck. _Gilbert scrunched up his face, trying to thing of an answer that wouldn't either sound like bullshit or completely give away everything. "Well - "

The door swung open, the rest of the Gryffindor class marching in. Prussia mentally let out a sigh of relief, turning to face the classroom.

Dolores Umbridge followed the students, her nauseatingly sweet smile still stretched across her face.

Prussia's stomach gave a lurch. He looked back at the students, then over at Umbridge, who was settling down in the corner of the room, clipboard in hand, then back at the students.

"So, hey class. We have a… _visitor _today. You've probably already seen her, all that stuff. We're just gonna continue on with class like she's not here, so, yeah." He took a breath. "Last class we learned about Chinese magic, who can remember what happened to wizards during China's Communist Revolution?"

Hermione's hand shot up. Prussia nodded at her, "Many wizards and witches fled to Hong Kong and other countries, in order to escape being targeted for using magic."

Prussia nodded, "Nowadays, Hong Kong has one of the largest populations of wizards and witches in Asia, along with South Korea and Taiwan. It even has its own school. But despite that, there's still a ton of stuff that happened in China's history for four thousand yea - "

Umbridge let out a cough. Prussia clenched his fist, looking over at her. "_Yes_?"

"Oh, pardon me, but I simply wanted to point out that non-European countries' histories aren't actually part of the Ministry-approved curriculum."

"And your point is?" Prussia could barely bite back the venom in his tone.

"Well, the Ministry has always had the best interests of the students in mind, and straying of the well-proven curriculum could drastically mar the growth of the students-"

Prussia raised an eyebrow, "Class, page 213. I need to sort some things out." A few students opened their textbooks, peeking out behind them, while others didn't bother trying to hide their curiosity.

"How could learning about other countries' histories 'drastically mar the growth of the students' ? Because you're just narrow-minded. I don't know if you've realized that other countries exist yet, but they do."

Umbridge stood up, barely adding a couple inches to her height. "I hope you realize that the Ministry has proven that our curriculum -"

"Your curriculum does _what?_ Brainwashes more students into believing that wizards are _better_ than everyone? _That they should believe every lie spewed out by the government_?" Prussia stood up, his chair clattering to the floor. Memories of his brother, flags fluttering - _Now's not the time for that!_

"Well, you'd know all about lies told by governments, would you?" Umbridge spat out, "I believe, Gilbert, that your bias against government is _interfering with your teaching!"_

"_My _bias is interfering with _my _teaching? Well _excuse_ _me_ for not blindly following whatever authorities tell me to believe! I wouldn't know _anything_ about trying to _lie about everything_. Don't think that _I _know why you're here. You're the one who stands in front of the class and _doesn't teach anything! _This 'teacher' act is just a cover up! _You're_ _just here to get rid of people who oppose you and create more propaganda for the Ministry! _**_I know what people like you really try to do!_**" Prussia towered above Umbridge, red eyes blazing with rage. The two were a few inches apart from each other, eyes gleaming with unadulterated fury.

"Pointless accusations, Gilbert!" Umbridge's shrill voice shook, "You're in no position to talk about covering up things, the Ministry has no records of you even _existing _before this summer! Then you suddenly appear, a perfect teaching qualification, claims of traveling the world, connections from _multiple _different countries in high-up positions, all while nobody knew of your _existence!_"

Prussia gaped, trying to think of a response. _What am I supposed to say to that? _He looked around the room, the way a student does when they can't remember an answer on a test and are trying to escape the inevitable failure. "That's not important - just - let me teach!"

Umbridge smiled, sitting back down, quill scratching furiously like it was running a goddamn marathon.

Umbridge's eyes were like a prickle on the back of his neck throughout the rest of the block, stretching the 45 minute block to feel like hours. The moment the bell rang Prussia fled the room, through corridors, up stairs, heart racing as he slammed through his room door.

He locked the door, casting a silencing spell for good measure before leaping towards the mirror.

"Gilen! Gilen answer me!"

The surface remained still.

Gilbert cursed, kicking the wall. He swore again, rubbing his foot. He lay down on the bed, running his hand through his hair. He closed his eyes.

*A 'shut up noise' sounds something like 'ngnhGHHSHGHHghhspfppfhgh', or some close variation of that. It's rather open-ended.

** What a fucking loser.

[AA/N: Okay, so this chapter took a while, but it's the longest one yet and I'm pretty proud of it! (Especially the history bit, that took a little research. People actually did flee to Hong Kong during the Communist Revolution! Also, I think Arthur's influence on Hong Kong would probably have given him at least a _little_ magic, which definitely impacts the character as well, which may or may not be important in a future short.) If you guys have any questions about this story you can ask in reviews/comments, between chapters I can answer them in a separate document, and hopefully have a short out soon (the Magic Trio one might not be coming out _next_, but I have written some of another short featuring some other countries.)

Do any of you guys know how to call someone a 'barfstained crotchpuppet' in German? I swear this is important. Feel free to add other colorful insults, if you wish.

Also, my author notes will be shown inside brackets. [AA/N: Like this. Why is it AA/N? Is that a typo? No, I thought it was funny because my username can be abbreviated to AA.]]


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